come hell or high water
by Sane-in-Insanity
Summary: Dean/Castiel — When it comes to Dean, Castiel knows no limits.


_Note: Takes place throughout season four. And ignore the business with the seals, haha. I um, kinda disregarded that in this one-shot._

* * *

**come hell or high water**

_When it comes to Dean, Castiel knows no limits._

* * *

Dean Winchester was the first human Castiel ever raised from Hell.

The man was scarred, damaged, dead—not _physically _dead since his return from damnation, but in the emotional sense.

In a way, Castiel thought perhaps that was worse, but there was nothing he could do about it. It was God's will for Dean Winchester to rise, and it was Castiel's responsibility to carry out his will, even when Castiel wondered if it was wise.

However, it wasn't his place to question divine orders, so he did his duty and gripped Dean tight and raised him from perdition.

* * *

"This is your problem, Dean. You have no faith."

When Castiel met Dean as a host in a human body for the first time, Castiel saw the rage, torment, self-loathing within the man. It ached a little to watch a being in so much pain, and Castiel thought—things wouldn't be near as unbearable if Dean had shown devotion in the Lord who made him. God could share his burdens; God could relieve the weight on his shoulders if Dean had just allowed it.

"Why would an angel rescue me from Hell?"

It was times like this Castiel was awed by the nature of human beings. They were such small, insignificant creatures, yet they possessed a strength—or an instinct, perhaps—to question their fate and never submit without a fight like angels of the Lord were expected to, and it was then Castiel knew—Dean Winchester wasn't going to bow down so easily.

Castiel envied him for that.

* * *

There once was a time in which Castiel obeyed without a second thought. That had changed the moment he witnessed the unyielding defiance of the Winchester brothers, and for once, Castiel was uncertain.

Castiel was a soldier, a warrior of God. He was not supposed to question the will of Father. He was not supposed to experience these foreign _things _called feelings and emotions, but he couldn't help it. The fire, the _passion _within Dean's green, green eyes wavered the once resolute loyalty Castiel had to God.

"I'm not a...hammer, as you say," Castiel began quietly, "I have questions. I…I have doubts. I don't know what is right or wrong anymore."

Castiel didn't know why he was telling Dean this. This was bordering on divine treason—Castiel's words. Nothing good would come out of it.

Yet somehow, he didn't care. He just wanted to make Dean _see _that he wasn't the blind soldier that Dean made him out to be, not anymore.

He just wanted Dean's acceptance.

* * *

When Dean was in pain, Castiel thought he might've been in pain, too.

"You do not want me doing this, trust me," Dean said with his back to Castiel, voice quivering almost imperceptibly.

Castiel didn't have to look to know how much this was killing Dean. He hated every second of it. "Want it? No. But I have been told we need it."

There it was again—Castiel was _told_. He couldn't recall a time where he did something of his own will. Centuries after centuries, Castiel only did as he was bid, even when he knew his actions may cost the people he cared for.

That was the thing—Castiel had never _cared _for anyone, not the way he cared for Dean Winchester. He couldn't explain it, but there was this hesitant protectiveness that he harbored for Dean that threatened to surface from time to time. Castiel always made sure he kept it well hidden, though; any signs of betrayal would cost him death, and if he was dead, he would no longer be able to watch over Dean.

"You ask me to open that door and walk through it, you will not like what walks back out."

_Wrong_, Castiel thought, _nothing would make me hate you. _Of course, Dean didn't know that. He could not. "For what it's worth, I would give anything…not to have you do this."

If there was anyone Castiel hated, it was himself for not even trying.

* * *

Castiel had disobeyed.

It was nothing like he expected. Instead of feeling brave and proud for making a stand, he felt—fear. For the first time in his existence, he was afraid; he didn't know what was going to happen.

Castiel knew he had to act quickly. He had to tell Dean what he learnt about the true plan. He had to get to Dean before any serious damage could be done.

"Meet me here," Castiel gave Dean a piece of paper with an address scribbled on it, "go now."

It was so close, so _close_. Castiel was almost about to reveal Heaven's plan, but before he could meet Dean, a brother appeared before him, then another, and another, until Castiel was surrounded.

"You disobeyed, Castiel."

Castiel closed his eyes and submitted to divine judgement.

* * *

Castiel should've known better.

After all that he went through, he thought that perhaps all _this_—this sense of right and wrong that Dean feels so strongly about—is not worth it; perhaps it would be easier to just _obey_.

"This is simple, Cas. No more crap about being a good soldier," Dean said desperately and Castiel turned away—it was all too much for Castiel, too much for him to know that even when he had given up on himself, Dean still had faith in him, "There is a right and there is a wrong here and you know it!"

_No, I don't, _Castiel wants to scream, _I don't know anything anymore!_

"Look at me," Dean growled, gripping Castiel on the shoulder and forcing him to look into his eyes, "you were gonna help me once, weren't you? You were gonna warn me about this before they dragged you back to Bible camp. Help me now, _please_."

Castiel wasn't sure if he was ready to disobey twice. It had cost him, so, so much, but it was _Dean asking for his help_. He could never turn Dean away, even if he wanted to. Castiel was…he didn't know what he was. "What would you have me do?"

"Get me to Sam. We can stop this before it's too late."

_Please don't ask this of me. _"I do that, and we will all be hunted. We'll _all _be killed." _I don't want you to die, Dean._

Dean looked at Castiel with such conviction and determination that Castiel felt entranced by the intensity of his gaze, "If there is anything worth dying for, this is it."

He never wanted any of it. He never wanted to raise Dean from Hell. He never wanted to be in charge of Dean. He never wanted to feel emotions for Dean.

He never wanted to love Dean.

"You spineless, _soulless_ son of a bitch," Dean said, voice full of anger and disappointment and frustration, "what do you care about dying? You're already dead. We're done."

Castiel couldn't let things end this way with Dean. He couldn't. "Dean—"

"_We're done."_

* * *

When it comes to Dean, Castiel knows no limits.

It is the end for Castiel, he knows, but it doesn't _feel _like the end.

The ground shakes with tremendous force, the windows buzz and threaten to shatter, and there is a blinding light outside and Castiel knows—_this is it._

"It's the Archangel," Castiel yells over the deafening noise, staring into Dean's widening eyes that say everything that Castiel wishes not to hear. _It's not the time, Dean. It never will be. _"I'll hold him off. I'll hold them all off. Just stop Sam!"

Castiel knows Dean is going to object. He is going to say things like _no, Cas, we don't sacrifice anybody, please_, but Castiel doesn't give him the chance to. He places a hand on Dean's head and swiftly transports Dean to the site, knowing full well that is goodbye.

He turns towards Raphael, and makes his final stand.

* * *

_I hope you enjoyed it :) Please don't fav without leaving a review! Reviews make me happy~_


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